What was he like?
by kiwi-fruit-from-hell
Summary: Set during Sports Medicine. Wilson and Stacy having dinner and catching up. Strong HouseWilson friendship with implied slash.


"Sports Medicine" is the only episode of House that I don't like. I hate seeing Wilson ditch House and monster trucks for dinner with Stacy. So I'm fixing it. This way, it's a little more bareable. R&R

Disclaimer: Not mine, but if it was this is how it would happen.

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The restaurant was nice. More sophisticated than was necessary for a meal of two friends catching up, but that was Stacy. Wilson grinned at the thought of House sitting awkwardly in one of these places that she dragged him to, getting looks because of his scruffy suit and stubble. Chinese takeout and a B movie were more House's idea of fun. Wilson's too, come to think of it. These places made him think he should be whispering, adopting library etiquette. With a flourish he requested the most difficult to pronounce wine on the list, silently praying he had said it right; it was a habit that had formed from numerous dates. Stacy gave him a look with one of those perfectly sculpted angular eyebrows. 

"How long has it been since I saw you? Years I suppose…" She flicked through the menu while she spoke, not really interested in this small talk.

"Yeah. I think 2, maybe 3 years. Have you met Julie?"

"New wife? I heard about you and Natalie. Can't say I was surprised."

Wilson laughed, "She was a little…difficult, I concede."

"Difficult is the nice way of putting it. I don't know how you put up with her for so long."

"How did you put up with Greg for so long?"

"You've put up with him for even longer than me."

"Trust me, it hasn't been easy."

"If it's that bad, why don't you just go?" Stacy questioned.

"That would be harder."

Stacy raised one of those eyebrows again, and Wilson mused that she must use a geometry set to draw them like that. She opened her mouth to follow up on the point, but hesitated and thought better of it. Instead she said, "Ready to order?" and signalled the waiter over.

Wilson quickly scanned the menu that he had been holding but looking at blankly. Lasagne seemed like the best option among the list of pretentious meals. He ordered and sat back in his chair, tired from a long day of work. Seeing terminal patients everyday was trying, coupling that with having to lie to House he felt like crawling under a rock for a few months. He wanted to be at monster trucks. Wilson knew he had taken Cameron instead, and found himself jealous though he knew that was ridiculous. He tried to remember why he hadn't just cancelled on Stacy.

"Tell me about Julie."

_Ah, right. Catching up. _"She's a home-care worker. We met when she came to the hospital one day to yell at me about the lack of after care one of our chemo patients had gotten."

"Fiery seems to be a pattern with women for you." Stacy smiled.

"It's pretty useful; I can't read signals."

"Hmm, just like any man in that respect."

"Oh sure, blame us for women being so illogical." Wilson rolled his eyes.

"The logic is just beyond your understanding."

"Well personally, I like things to make at least some sense."

"Kind of leads us back to Greg again, doesn't it? What sense does he make to you?"

"He makes perfect sense," Wilson mumbled to the tablecloth. He looked up and addressed Stacy. "You're talking about him a lot."

"I could say the same about you."

Wilson smiled briefly. "I guess you want to know how he is?"

"Please." Stacy's smiled dropped and she broke eye contact with Wilson.

"He's doing ok. I'm looking out for him."

"Last time we spoke you said he was on a lot of painkillers…" She looked concerned.

"I don't think he'd want me to talk to you in any more detail about him." Wilson sighed, a vague feeling of dislike for the woman rising in his stomach. It was somewhat familiar. Why wasn't he at monster trucks?

"James, I just want to make sure he's doing ok."

"Well he is, alright? So leave it." Wilson snapped.

"I'm worried about him."

"So worried that you check in on his condition every three years? Wow, you must lie awake at night."

"I'm not allowed to get on with my life?" Stacy sat up straighter and glared at Wilson across the table.

"No, you're not. You should have been around to help him. To help me pick up the pieces." Wilson punctuated his words with a long gulp of wine.

"Let's not talk about this." Stacy said, half way between commanding and pleading.

"Fine." Wilson poured himself another glass of wine and cast his eyes about the restaurant, trying to keep his eyes away from Stacy, to keep her from seeing anything in them.

The food arrived and they ate in silence. Wilson's lasagne had too much onion. He wondered how people would react if he started picking them out with his fingers; he half expected the waiter to rush over and tell him such expressions of distain as he was wearing were not permitted. Stacy glanced up at him periodically and several times he heard her draw in a breath, about to start a conversation but changing her mind at the last moment.

"What was it like living with House?" Wilson knew it was a cheap shot to bring up subjects of pain with her, but the sharp flash of hurt in her eyes was something he thought should be with her always for what she did to Greg. And he was honestly interested.

"It was…He can be the most irritating person on the planet and the most wonderful. Usually the former outweighed the latter." She attempted a small laugh to accompany this.

"Is he very domestic? I mean he seemed to automatically seemed to know how to do laundry and cook when he was on his own." The question came several minutes after the first, Wilson trying to phrase it casually and failing miserably.

"He never asked me to do laundry for him or cook, though I would of course. He learnt it all in college and I guess he didn't like asking for my help."

"I think you mean he didn't need your help."

Stacy laughed. "Yes, I suppose that is more accurate."

"Regular sex?"

"What did you just ask?"

Wilson flashed a cheeky grin. "Sorry, I think I've had too much wine." He had immensely enjoyed the look of shock on her face. He was starting to see why House acted the way he did all the time; this was fun.

They were coming to the end of their meals, and to the end of the second bottle of wine when Stacy spoke again. "I really am worried about him, and you, for that matter. You've been acting strangely tonight."

"How the hell do you expect he's doing? He hasn't grown a new muscle in his leg, though that would be more likely than moving on from what you did."

"I saved him."

"Only someone who hasn't spoken to him in years could say that." Wilson turned away from her in his seat, and waved at the waiter to bring the bill.

"I love him. You can't just watch someone you love die." Tears glistened in her eyes.

Wilson dropped several twenties on the table, no longer willing to wait for the bill. "You'd be surprised how easy it is. I've been doing it for seven years."


End file.
